Innocent
by BulletsCoffeeFaith
Summary: Ben shows up in battle with the rebellion Skitters and some other de-harnessed children. He, however, doesn't make it out quite as safely as his friends. Prediction fic/slight songfic, in a way. Read to find out more; rated T for some blood and almost-death of a main character. Oneshot.


**A/N: This here, what also might be called my first fanfiction story, is also what I like to call a "prediction fic." I think that Ben will, at the very latest, come back into the show with the rebel Skitters to help the Second Mass in a battle. And I love the song Innocent by Taylor Swift. Take a fan's theory and a sweet song…and well…this is what you get. Enjoy!**

A small smile ghosted over his face.

The entire world was a blend of color and darkness before his eyes. He could feel the blood pouring quickly – too quickly – from the wounds in his abdomen. He felt the pain. He also felt the wonder, the amazement, at what he'd just done. His family was safe, as were his friends, and a majority of the rebel Skitters. Had he truly done that? Had he, the math geek, the razorback, just taken another huge step for all of them on the path to ending this war?

The sky was blue and clear above him, the green grass soft beneath his body, reminding him of their sweet victory. One of the biggest battles of this entire war. _Won_. Ben knew he was about to die, lying here on his own. He knew his father would send a search party out once it was realized that he was missing. And somehow, he didn't seem to care. He'd done his part in this war. He could only hope the others, the other de-harnessed kids, his soldiers, would do the same, for the sake of their families and lost loved ones if nothing else.

Lying on his back, no matter how soft the ground beneath him was, was hurting his spikes. The blood seeped from the bullet holes in his stomach, draining itself faster and faster. Emotions of joy and happiness spread through him, and as he lay dying, Ben Mason let out a slight huff of laughter. It might seem crazy, but he felt as though he'd just won a gold medal in the Olympics, won the Daytona 500 by three full laps – _done the impossible._

His eyes slowly began to slip shut. He was groggy, suddenly – tired. A desperate need for sleep was pulling at him.

Ben felt a flicker of annoyance. How was he supposed to sleep with all those people in the distance, calling out his name? Why was it now that they'd chosen to show themselves? God, he was tired.

"_Ben!_" A familiar voice rang out, full of sorrow and pain. "No…no, please, no!"

The voices got closer, louder, tempting him to wake again, and it made him angry. He knew they must see how tired he was, and yet they still shouted for him to open his eyes. Two warm fingers pressed themselves to his neck, then moved to his hand, grasping it tightly. The voices sounded different now; no longer suspicious or uncertain, they sounded rushed and serious as they called out orders.

"Ben, no…" the voice groaned. "Please…please wake up. Wake up, Ben. Please look at me, please." The most familiar of all…but where did he know this person from? Who was it, calling out to him so desperately? A face buried itself in his hair. Bigger, slightly stronger fingers prodded gently around the bullet wounds, and Ben gasped, struggling away from them. The movement sent waves of agony traveling from his stomach and up his spine. He wanted them to stop – couldn't they see they were hurting him? Ben tried to open his mouth, to tell them to get the fuck away. A weak cry was all he could manage.

"Ben?" A different voice, a woman this time. She sounded professional and personal at the same time, as if somehow, his dying here in this forest would affect her life. "Ben, sweetheart, if you can hear me, I need you to squeeze my hand, alright?" A small, gloved hand reached for his free one. He pressed his thumb down roughly, uncertain whether she'd be able to feel it or not, but it seemed to do the trick.

"We're going to have to move him." This one was young and female, not addressing him. "Put him in the back of the truck or something, it's too far away to carry him."

The world seemed to fade for a moment again, then came back in swirling colors as his eyes flew open. The fuzzy outline of two faces loomed over him. Ben felt a jolt of realization; all the illusion began to fall away as reality hit him at full-speed.

He arched his back and screamed.

"Dad," he heard himself sob the word, and now it all made sense. All shock of being fired down by a Mech disappeared, and now his entire body ached and screamed, begging for anesthetic, for relief, for anything, maybe even for death and peace.

"I'm here, Ben." Tom lifted his middle son's head carefully into his lap, stroking his hand through the mud-caked blonde locks. "You're going to be okay, alright? You're hurt, but you're going to be okay." He looked nervously over the boy's head. Ben trailed his eyes slowly, catching a glimpse of Anne and Lourdes. His father looked down at him again. "We're going to have to move you. But I'm here, okay?" He placed his hand back in Ben's.

He saw Anthony and Dai, taking hold of his legs, and a spasm of fear shot through him. Maybe he'd get lucky and pass out, not have to feel the tremendous agony he knew was about to come. Ben turned his face into his father's side as the five of them prepared to lift him, and let out a soft whimper. At any other time, he would have been extremely embarrassed by such an act. But if there was ever an exception, a time where it was acceptable for him to act like a child, than this was it.

"Don't look," Tom murmured into his ear, pressing his lips to his dirty forehead. "Look at me, Ben, focus on me. We'll get you fixed up soon, I promise. Hold on."

He screamed once more – the sound echoed through the forest as they hurried, running as fast as they could holding him, and began to load him into the back of the truck. Ben was angry with himself as they repositioned him and a stray tear trailed down his cheek. He was a soldier, Goddamn it. Soldiers didn't cry. Soldiers were stronger than this.

Tom's warm hand wiped the tear away. Ben's pained green eyes looked up into warm brown. Despite the situation, his father smiled at him. "I've missed you." Ben took in a deep breath.

"Missed you," he rasped in reply, and returned the slight smile. "Do good?" Tom chuckled lightly, brushing his hand over his son's pale cheek.

"You did great, Ben…you and your friends," he whispered; and his smile began to fade as Ben's eyes slowly flicker shut. "Hey, no…you got to stay awake. Keep your eyes open…Ben? Ben, can you hear me?"

Ben felt the colors and the world begin to fade back again as he closed his eyes. The pain in his abdomen decreased to a dull thud. He could hear Tom swearing to himself, shouting to Anne for help, at Anthony to drive faster, and at his son to wake up, because he had to make it through this, this couldn't happen, Ben couldn't just die.

_Sorry, dad._

He sighed and allowed the darkness to consume him.

.-.

Tom Mason sat in a chair at his middle son's bedside, watching and listening to him breathe as he slept.

Ben lay on his side – no need to aggravate the spikes any more – coddled in blankets, an oxygen mask strapped to his face and an IV drip poked into his wrist. He seemed at peace; oblivious to the world around him. If he concentrated, it was almost as though Ben had never been harnessed. He looked like the bookworm, math-genius, fifteen-year-old boy Tom remembered.

And above all, he looked deeply innocent.

_It's alright, just wait and see_

_Your string of lights is still bright to me, oh_

_Who you are is not where you've been_

_You're still an innocent_

_It's okay, life is a tough crowd_

_Fifteen* is still growing up, now_

_Who you are is not what you did_

_You're still an innocent_

_Innocent by Taylor Swift_

**A/N: Sorry if that seems like a weird place to end. I thought so too. There was, however, nothing else to say, so I decided to leave it at that. Please review and let me know what you think! Flames will be saved to heat up my hot chocolate in December!**

_*The original lyric was "thirty-two is still growing up" but for this occasion, I changed it to fifteen._


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